


Whispered Scream

by Headline (Newsy)



Series: Headline's Chronicles [8]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Original Character(s), POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:12:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newsy/pseuds/Headline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One has no rules, is not precise. One rarely acts the same way twice..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispered Scream

_“Starscream?!”_

Slamdance was right to be skeptical of my latest pitch.  Starscream never talked to any of us – “the mindless media mob,” as he called us – on any terms, save those he specifically dictated.  Responding to a request for an interview… that was unheard of from the power-greedy ‘Con.

“Did I stutter?” I replied, entirely pleased with myself for the first time in weeks.

“You better be telling the truth, Headline,” Slamdance teased me.  “If you are, this is the get of the century.  If you’re slaggin’ me… well, I’ll turn you _into_ slag.”

“You know me better than that,” I laughed.  It felt good to laugh… like old times.

“I’m just glad to see you getting back into the game like this,” Slamdance said, turning serious.  “We’ve all been worried about you here.”

“I know… thanks,” I said.  “But you shouldn’t be so surprised, Slamdance.  Think about who I see every day… Prime, Ironhide, Ratchet, Sideswipe…”

“Sunstreaker?”

“Yes, Sunstreaker,” I said with a distracted smile.  “He’s really… he’s gotten me through a lot these past few weeks.”

“That’s what I thought,” Slamdance grinned.  “Now where were you?”

“I was _trying_ to tell you…” I said, giggling, then shook my head and started over.  “None of these warriors here shut down when one of their friends dies… they keep going.  They fight harder.  So… I’m gonna keep going.  Live Shot would expect no less.”

“And neither would we,” Slamdance said, with an empathetic look.  “But… how are you holding up, really?”

“Just getting by,” I sighed.  “Doing what I have to.  Like I always do.”  I thought of Sunstreaker again.  “It helps to have… _friends_ here on Earth.”

“I’m sure it does.”  Slamdance winked at me, then turned businesslike again.  “Starscream.  What’s your angle?”

“Wheeljack and Ratchet just defrosted Skyfire yesterday… he’s good as new,” I explained.  “You know their history… or at least you know as much as anyone does, other than Starscream himself.”

“Say no more,” Slamdance said.  “I’m looking forward to this… there better be some good stuff.”

I nodded confidently.  “There will be.”

“If that’s all for now…”

“We’ll talk again tonight when I file.  One-fembot Earth bureau signing off.”

“Till tonight, Headline,” Slamdance said with a relieved smile.  He seemed pleased that I’d started speaking in one-liners again.

I switched off the video transmitter in my quarters and returned to the task at hand: preparing for quite possibly the most daunting interview I’d ever done.  Not even the thought of sitting face-to-face with Megatron himself intimidated me more than the prospect of chatting it up with Starscream.  Megatron was more cold than anything else; Starscream always seemed… well… crazy to me.  Unpredictable, at least.

_Then again,_ I thought, _isn’t unpredictability supposed to be my comfort zone?_

I turned and checked the clock.  Two hours until taping.  Just enough time to leaf through the haphazard pile of documents in front of me and record a few more questions on my notepad.  Behind me, my camera sat on its charger… a scene which had repeated itself countless times over the past five weeks, but still a scene to which I was unaccustomed.  Two hours before a big story, with a lull in the action… right about now, Live Shot and I would be in the middle of a hurried, last-minute planning session.  He’d be tossing me ideas; I’d be playing director; we would both be thoroughly enjoying the process.

Solo show prep… it still seemed wrong.

Most days, I was able to forget my lingering guilt and grief for at least a few hours.  Most days, I was able to occupy my circuits, however briefly, by throwing myself into my work.  But not this day.  Somehow, the thought of asking Starscream about the _distant_ past kept me thinking of my own _recent_ past.  “Maybe I can use it,” I said out loud to myself.  “Maybe… maybe we’ve got some sort of common bond.”

I walked away from my notes and let my thoughts drift to that horrible day five weeks before.  I replayed my last conversation with Live Shot: _“Plenty of blame to go around anyway.”_   If that was so… why did I continue to lay the overwhelming majority of that blame at my own feet?

But in a way, how could I _not_ blame myself?  If only I had made the right decisions… if only I had been in the position to make those decisions.

_If only I had been in command of that rescue mission!_

My optics widened, and I rushed back to my notes to record that final thought.  Starscream hadn’t been in command the day Skyfire was lost… what if he wished he had been?  What if that day made Starscream into the delusionally dictatorial ‘Con we had all grown to know and loathe?

But for a few differences in our circuits… could I have turned out exactly like Starscream?

I shuddered at the idea of seeing Starscream in a more sympathetic light.  _I’m just doing my job,_ I thought, closing my notepad and checking my equipment one last time.  _It’s all part of the job._

As I prepared to roll out, I glanced at the plaques mounted on the wall, honoring Autobot heroes who had fallen in battle.  There, freshly placed a few days ago on Prime’s orders, was one in memory of Live Shot.  “A civilian with the Spark of a warrior,” I read, my voice faltering.

With a heavy sigh, I steeled myself for what Slamdance had called “the get of the century” and left the Ark.

***

I arrived first at the neutral location I’d proposed.  On one hand, I wasn’t all that surprised; leave it to Starscream to want to make an entrance.  But on the other, I was downright shocked that he’d agreed to meet at a location he hadn’t chosen.

Waiting for my subject, I composed my shot in my mind.  _I guess being assigned to Earth has its advantages,_ I thought.  This place known to the humans as the Columbia River Gorge was the closest thing I’d found to the ideal feature setting, and the vast expanse of virtually cloudless sky made the day even more perfect for an interview with a Seeker.

Starscream, displaying his flair for the dramatic as flamboyantly as ever, swooped toward me with a deafening roar, transforming mere yards from me as he landed.  “Let’s get this over with, Autobot,” he smirked.

“Starscream,” I replied, with a cordial smile.  “It’s good to meet you on non-hostile terms.”

“For _now_ ,” Starscream snapped.  “You’d best hope we _remain_ on non-hostile terms.”

“That goes without saying,” I said, setting up my tripod and making a final few adjustments.  “In all seriousness… I do want to thank you for agreeing to this.”

“And I suppose I must thank you for asking,” Starscream answered, his demeanor softening slightly.  “It’s not every day an Autobot _asks_ to listen to me.”  He glanced at me, almost smiling as he caught my optics.

“Just doing my job,” I said, quickly looking back to my camera.  “I’m honor-bound to get both sides, you know.  But just for the sake of full disclosure, I’m not going to be asking you about your plans to bring the ‘Cons back to glory.”

“You want to talk about Skyfire.”

“What I want to talk about is –” I froze, realizing Starscream had anticipated the entire purpose of my visit without a word from me.  “How did you –”

“I know he’s been brought back,” Starscream interrupted me.  “And I would expect no less from an Autobot reporter than to ask me about…”

“About the closest thing you have to a friend in the Autobot ranks?” I suggested, relaxing.  Starscream nodded, this time breaking into a full smile, as I punched the power button on my camera.  “Rolling now.”

At that signal, Starscream quickly returned to his arrogant, distant self.  “Headline, the pleasure is all yours.”

“And it is indeed a pleasure,” I said as politely as possible, opening my notepad.  “We’re all familiar with you as the commander of the Seekers –”

“And as the soon-to-be commander of _all_ Decepticons,” Starscream predictably interjected.

“But there was a time when you were not a Decepticon at all.  What turned you?”

“Very simple,” Starscream began, leaning casually against a rock face.  “After the final split, I weighed the risks of choosing each side, and I discovered that alignment with the Decepticons offered me the best chance of survival.”

“How so?” I prompted.

“The Autobots will pursue and defend any life form at any cost,” Starscream sneered.  “Part of Prime’s ridiculous code of honor.  The Decepticons have no such demands on them.”

“Starscream, you were once a scientist, bound to peacefully search out life in any form,” I said, genuinely confused.  “The demands you reject now – those are the same demands you once lived to carry out.”

“That was before the losses,” Starscream replied coldly.

“Skyfire?”

“Skyfire was hardly the first,” he sighed, exasperated.  “There were others – _dozens_ of others – who had disappeared over the far reaches of the galaxy, just because they never wanted to give up and leave.”

I zoomed in on Starscream as his posture became tense.  “Anyone you’d worked with as closely as Skyfire?”

“I had never met any of them… but Skyfire called most of them his friends.  Skids, Beachcomber, Cosmos, Sky Lynx, Octane, Brainstorm…”

“All still missing,” I remarked for the record.

“He took it personally – he actually _grieved_ every time another one went missing.  And he still insisted we go on that mission.”

“The mission that brought you to Earth for the first time.”

“There was _nothing_ there!” Starscream shouted.  No doubt his memory of the doomed mission was as strong as ever.   “No intelligence, barely a hint of anything Skyfire or I could recognize as life.  _Nothing!_ I suggested looking elsewhere on the planet, I suggested we just leave… but all he would say was ‘look closer’.  He was sure we’d find _something_ under that ice cap… if we’d just look closer.”

“And you did try.”

“Everyone knows what happened,” Starscream continued, in a quieter voice tinged with regret.  “Skyfire was in command of the mission.  I _had_ to do as he ordered.  There was a windstorm, we were separated, Skyfire was lost – everyone’s read the reports.”  He shook his head.  “I still can’t believe he was _here_ all this time.  I could’ve found him, if only…”

As I tightened my shot on his face, I found myself forgetting that I was one badly worded question away from the business end of Starscream’s null ray.  I began to look on this intimidating warrior, this dogged enemy of all Autobots, with some empathy.  And before he could focus himself enough to say them, I heard the words that would not come.

“If only you’d looked closer,” I said gently.

Starscream nodded, looking uncharacteristically shaken.  “I was exonerated in the official account… it was Skyfire’s mission and his responsibility, I had just followed orders – what am I telling you that for?  You’re probably reading along on that thing,” he said with a gesture toward my open notepad, which was indeed displaying the mission report.

“Do you agree with the verdict?” I asked.  “The way you talk about this mission, it’s almost as though you would’ve held yourself responsible.”

“I _still_ hold myself responsible, Headline,” he replied, punctuating his words with a punch to the rock.  I pulled back my shot, setting up a wider angle to capture us both, as it dawned on me that he’d taken to calling me by my name.

“But you’ve said yourself that you were simply following Skyfire’s orders.”

“And that’s the problem,” Starscream angrily shot back.  “What if I _hadn’t_ followed orders?  What if I’d taken command of the mission – right there, on the spot – and dragged Skyfire back to Cybertron?”

“Would you still have become a Decepticon then?”

“Who knows?”  He glared into the distance.

“I suppose it would be an understatement to say Skyfire’s loss made you who you are now,” I said as I adjusted the camera angle once again.  “But let’s say you could go back right now, back to that mission, and you could make sure that Skyfire would have returned to the lab on Cybertron with you.  If Skyfire _hadn’t_ been lost… do you think you would have still become a warrior?”

“Skyfire asked me something similar just after we revived him,” Starscream said with a wry smile, leaning against the rock face again.  “He asked me if I was really happier as a warrior than a scientist.  You Autobots… you all think alike, don’t you?”

“Well, _are_ you happier as a warrior?” I prodded, becoming a bit more informal myself.

“All things considered,” he said slowly, “yes.  As a warrior, I have the respect I deserve.  The Decepticons won’t tell you so, but they look up to me.  I lead missions… I have the authority to make command decisions.”

“And you want _more_ authority.”

“I _deserve_ more authority!” Starscream raged.  “Megatron’s idiotic strategy puts the Decepticons at risk, more than Skyfire’s stubbornness ever did.  Megatron wants blind conquest at any cost… how can you conquer if your entire fighting force is terminated?”

“Would the old Starscream have followed that logic?”

“The _old Starscream_ wouldn’t have done anything but follow orders.”

_Just as the old Headline would never have had anything in common with this kook,_ I thought.  “Amazing how the loss of a friend can change you, isn’t it.”

Starscream nodded sharply, then looked away.  “Turn the camera off.”

I complied, snapping the cover on the lens and disconnecting the microphone to prove it.  “I hope I haven’t offended you,” I tentatively ventured.

“Not in the least,” he responded, with an oddly reassuring tone.  “You talk as though you know what it’s like.”

I tried to lighten my own mood with a nervous laugh.  “Who’s doing the interview here?”

“Answer me, Headline.”

“Of _course_ I know what it’s like,” I said.  “You should remember, Starscream… you were there.”

“That’s right… the small one.  The one you tried to negotiate with.”

“His name was Live Shot,” I said haltingly.  “And he was my best friend.”

“He _was…”_  Starscream paused, letting the phrase sink in.  “Then he… didn’t survive his wounds?”

“He went offline that same day,” I said, looking at the ground.  The images of those horrific hours, seared into my memory banks only weeks before, returned with full, vivid force.  I closed my optics tightly, recalling Live Shot falling mortally wounded on the battlefield, hearing his groans of pain as I bore him back to Ratchet’s medical bay, almost feeling his broken body curled in my lap as his Spark went out.

After a few moments of silence, Starscream took a cautious step in my direction.  “Headline?”

I shook myself back to the present.  “You ready?”

“Are _you?”_ Starscream asked, with a questioning look, almost a look of concern, that surprised me.

I nodded, hoping to appear confident, and powered up my equipment.  “Let’s finish, then.”

“Where were we?”

“Skyfire – his loss, his rediscovery – it’s a difficult subject for you,” I observed, reopening my notepad.

“And it shouldn’t be,” Starscream bitterly scolded himself.  “Things are not as they were.  _Skyfire and I_ are not as we were.  I have lost him again… to the Autobots.”

“It seems that Skyfire’s core beliefs made him more suited to the Autobots from the very beginning,” I pointed out.  “Perhaps it’s you who has changed the most.”

“Perhaps… but Skyfire has lost his former loyalty to me.  He would have sacrificed his Spark for me on Cybertron.  Now that loyalty is reserved for the Autobots – and he’s even turned his guns on me.”

“He did demonstrate some loyalty toward you after you discovered him, though.”  I adjusted my camera to a softer focus, composing the finished package in my mind.  _Here’s where I add some Skyfire footage,_ I thought.  “Take me back to that moment when Rumble uncovered him.”

“I knew it was Skyfire right away,” Starscream said, his expression softening just as my focus did.  “Megatron accused me of going soft… caring too much about reviving him.  But how could I _not?_   I wondered what happened to him for millions of years.  If he could still be brought online, I wasn’t about to miss the chance to find out.”

“Did you wonder if he blamed you for the failure of that mission?”

“I _assumed_ he would blame me.  But I suppose he never did.  And as far as I know, he still hasn’t.  The first thing he said to me was that he was… grateful.  Even after I told him just how long he’d been on ice, he still thanked me for rescuing him.”

“Seems as though you would’ve picked up where you left off, as a team,” I said, sharpening the focus again.  “I understand you offered to make Skyfire your eventual second-in-command if you ever lead the Decepticons.”

_“When_ I lead the Decepticons,” Starscream brashly corrected me.  “And yes, I would’ve gladly made Skyfire my second-in-command.  He has great potential as a warrior… it’s too bad he’s wasting that potential as an Autobot.”

“You’ve said Skyfire’s turned his guns on you, and that’s true.  But if I recall correctly, he wasn’t the first to fire.”

“He forced my hand… sympathizing with your pathetic comrades,” Starscream grumbled.  “If Skyfire were really _loyal_ to me, he would _not_ have defended the humans.”

“But he was used to defending life – as were you before he was lost.”

“You said it yourself.  That was _before!”_ Starscream balled up his fists in anger.  “Before the Autobots became our mortal enemies.  Before those weak bags of flesh sided with them.”

“Before Skyfire’s disappearance convinced you that defending life was too dangerous?”

Starscream gave no answer.  I decided to try a different angle.  “Honestly, Skyfire wasn’t really Decepticon material to begin with, was he?”

“No,” Starscream grudgingly replied.  “He became a Decepticon out of his remaining loyalty to me.  But the Decepticon way was not in his nature.  It _is_ in mine.”

Sensing that I’d gotten all I was going to get, I shut down my equipment.  “We’re clear… thank you again, Starscream.  This really has been a pleasure,” I said, extending my hand, surprised that I considered that statement largely true.

“Likewise,” Starscream replied with a noncommittal smile as he shook my hand.  “Take care of yourself… Autobot.”

“Starscream… in another universe we might have been friends,” I whispered as he transformed and took off, disappearing over the horizon.

***

I stared blankly at the screen as the last seconds of the video footage uploaded.  How could I boil down the story I’d just heard?  And more importantly… what would Slamdance do to me if my package appeared to glorify Starscream?

As if on cue, Slamdance appeared on my video transmitter.  “Hey there, Earth bureau!”

“You rang?” I giggled.

“How’d it go?”

“Well.  _Surprisingly_ well.  Nobody got hurt, I got some good bites and… I’ll leave it at that.”

“You and Starscream have a connection, you know,” Slamdance said.  “You’ve both lost friends in the line of duty.”

“And we’ve both blamed ourselves for it,” I reflected.  “But I don’t want that to come through too strongly… you know what I’m saying?”

“I understand.  But don’t leave it entirely out, either.  If you did that, you’d be denying Live Shot… and worse, you’d be denying yourself.”

“Doesn’t that make Starscream look too sympathetic, though?  I mean… I know we’re sworn to give equal time to all sides, but I _am_ an Autobot, and we _are_ showing this to Autobots.”

“Nothing wrong with making your enemies three-dimensional,” Slamdance reminded me.  “As much as we sometimes like to deny it, the ‘Cons have personalities too.”

“And that’s just it,” I agreed.  “If you listen to some of what he said, he might not have _been_ a ‘Con if Skyfire hadn’t gone missing.”  I looked at my notepad, focusing on the names of the scientists yet to be found.  “Slamdance… when was the last time anyone looked for Skyfire’s colleagues?”

“There are still special teams out there searching, Headline,” he said.  “No one hears much about ‘em, though, even here on Cybertron – mainly because most of those who _are_ found are dead, and they’ve been long forgotten.”

“Keep me posted on the search efforts… I want Skyfire to know if any of his friends are recovered.  He’s lost so many… it’s the least I can do for him, to give him the truth.  He deserves to know.”  I glanced down at my notepad again.  “And so does Starscream… no matter what side he’s on now.”

“Will do.”  Slamdance paused and leaned closer to the screen.  “Headline… are you all right?”

“Fine,” I said with a halfhearted smile.

“Great job, ace,” Slamdance grinned.  “I’m looking forward to the finished product.”

“I’ll get it to you in –” I froze as I heard the familiar sound of Teletraan-1’s alarm.  “Gotta go, boss – sounds like we got a fight here.”

“Go get ‘em,” Slamdance said as the screen went dark.  I raced into central control just in time to hear an extraordinarily brief briefing from Optimus Prime.

“Men, the Decepticons have laid claim to a power plant just east of our position,” Prime said, gesturing toward Teletraan’s display.  “We must stop them from draining the energy.”

“We know the drill, Prime,” Ironhide drawled.  “Let’s kick some Decepti-cans.”

Sunstreaker winked and flashed me a quick, confident smile before moving toward the front of the ‘Bots’ battle formation.  In van mode, I brought up the rear as the Autobot warriors transformed and rolled out of the Ark.

***

The acrid smell of electrical fire filled the air several Earth miles away from the besieged power plant.  Hound, as always, was the first to pick up a signal.  “Soundwave,” he cautioned the other warriors.  “That means there’s a pack of minions here, too.”

“Great,” I muttered to myself, transforming and securing my laser pistol at my waist.  “That’s _all_ I need… another encounter with Ravage.”

“We’ll take care of him first this time, Headline,” Cliffjumper said confidently.

“You stay back this time, beautiful,” Sunstreaker gently chided me, patting me on the head before turning toward the battle line.  “I don’t want you hurt.”

“And _you_ keep your head low,” I replied with a flirtatious smile.  “I wanna see that face later.”

“Keep my head low – slag that!” Sunstreaker laughed.  “I’m gonna knock Starscream right outta the sky for you.”

“Just be careful,” I said, momentarily losing my concentration as I gazed proudly after my brave soldier.  He was, after all, one of Prime’s finest; what reason did I have to worry about him?

I shuddered, almost repulsed by myself, when I realized Sunstreaker wasn’t the only one I was worried about.

Just as Slamdance had said, I’d sought out my enemy’s personality.  And I’d found something unusual, something strangely honorable… something noble and good.  And if there was even a trace of good left in Starscream’s tortured Spark, was it not our obligation as Autobots to show some restraint?

_Don’t hurt him too badly,_ I thought in reply to Sunstreaker’s promise.  _Shoot Starscream out of the sky if you must… but please don’t kill him._

I regained my focus as a deafening roar sounded almost directly overhead.  “Seekers!” Cliffjumper shouted unnecessarily, as Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp honed in on the smoldering power plant.

“Skywarp, Thundercracker, collect the energon cubes,” Megatron ordered, then turned his attention to Optimus Prime.  “This energy is _ours,_ Prime!”

“You have no claim to it, Megatron,” Prime retorted as coolly as ever.  “Now, stop the energy drain and surrender those cubes… or we’ll do it _for_ you.”

“If that’s how you want to play it…”  Megatron, as always, trained his cannon on Prime and opened fire.  Prime dodged and returned a blast of his own, striking the ‘Con leader in the arm as Ironhide stepped up with cover fire.

The battered Megatron, armaments neutralized, turned toward Starscream.  “Destroy the Autobots.”

Starscream, as usual, began to protest against his detested commander.  “Megatron, why don’t you simply take the energon and return to base?  That _was_ the goal of this mission in the first place –”

“– But the complete destruction of the Autobots will be just the right finishing touch,” Megatron interrupted.  “Obliterate them, Starscream!”

Starscream turned back toward the ‘Bot ranks, weapons raised.  “Leave immediately or be terminated, Autobots,” he threatened, focusing first on Ironhide.

“Stand ready, men,” Prime ordered in response.  Behind the front lines, I panned slowly across the row of battle-tested ‘Bots.

_“Your time is up!”_

Starscream’s shrill interjection pulled my focus back toward him, just as he opened fire.  Ironhide unleashed a stream of supercooled nitrogen in the Seeker’s direction, barely missing as he himself took a devastating blow.

One after another, Starscream felled the Autobot troops.  Even Sideswipe, with his ability to briefly match the ‘Cons in the air, stood no chance.  I’d never seen Starscream in such peak form… and I’d never found myself coming so close to admiring a Decepticon.  I was so wrapped up in shot composition and story material, so engrossed in my own thoughts, that I barely noticed when Sunstreaker shouted a warning to me.  “Headline, _get down!”_

Starscream disabled Cliffjumper in two shots, Bumblebee in only one… then turned toward me.  I locked optics with him, hoping to renew some shred of the mutual respect we’d found only a short time before.  And for a fleeting moment, it seemed to work.

Suddenly, Starscream’s face returned to its familiar coldness… and he fired before I could draw my laser pistol.

I careened backward with the impact, tumbling nearly out of control and hearing a _crunch_ before landing hard on my left shoulder.  Surprised I was still able to struggle to my feet, I dusted myself off and checked for damage.

_Not too bad,_ I thought.  _Nothing fatal._  Still, policy dictated that I report to Prime that I’d been hit.  I hurriedly pressed a few buttons on my communicator.  “Prime, this is Headline… I’m wounded but not badly… falling back for safety.  Acknowledge.”

Nothing.

“Prime, this is Headline.  Acknowledge!”

Still no response.

Only then did I look at my communicator and realize that it hadn’t registered.  And only then did I recognize the source of the problem.

“That noise I heard… that was my comm array,” I said aloud to myself.

I cycled into van mode and back, just to make sure I still could.  Then, retrieving my camera, I scrambled back to the battle line… just as Starscream targeted Sunstreaker.

_“No!”_ I shrieked as the concussion sent Sunstreaker flying.

The rest of the skirmish was a blur.  Prime challenged Starscream and pummeled him, with an assist from the barely wounded Hound.  I caught all the action but noticed none… my attention was behind the lines.

As the Decepticons flew into another of their famously hasty retreats, I rushed toward the seriously wounded Sunstreaker.  His right leg, blown off below the knee, was a few feet away from him, with a trail of mech fluid and charred metal in between.  Still, somehow, he was conscious.

“Sunstreaker,” I whispered, resting my hand on his chest.

“You okay?” he asked me.

“Fine,” I said, dismissing my minor wounds.  “I wish I could say the same for you.”  I inspected his wound and pressed my hands over it, hoping to stem the rapid flow of mech fluid.

“I’ve seen worse…”  Sunstreaker’s voice faltered as he faded into stasis.

“Sunstreaker, don’t do this to me,” I said, beginning to panic.  If he had stayed even semi-conscious, I could have helped him back to base… but there was no chance that I could carry him on my own now.

Hound rushed to my side in the nick of time, picking up Sunstreaker’s severed leg.  “Need some help?”

“Thanks, Hound,” I answered, with a faint tremble in my voice.

“Hey, we never leave one behind, remember?” Hound said with a reassuring smile as he knelt and placed his free arm behind Sunstreaker.  “Get on his other side and lift on three.  One, two –”

“Three,” I finished, raising Sunstreaker’s stasis-locked body onto our shoulders and beginning the tedious trudge back to the Ark.

***

“Let’s test it out,” Wheeljack said, turning the final screw in my repaired communications array.  “Who should we call?”

“Well, since Hound hits my frequency all the time,” I giggled mischievously as I dialed him up.  “Hound, this is Headline… calling you _on purpose.”_

“Loud and clear,” Hound replied with the first honest-to-goodness laugh I’d heard from any of the ‘Bots since before the battle.  Indeed, there hadn’t been much to laugh about; the Autobots had won the fight in name only.  The Decepticons had retreated, but only after injuring most of the ‘Bot soldiers and absconding with enough energon to regroup.

“Thanks, Wheeljack,” I said as our communicators clicked off.  “If that’s it…”

Wheeljack nodded, understanding.  “Go check on him.”

I quietly slipped across the medical bay to where Sunstreaker lay in protective stasis, his leg now reattached.  Ratchet turned to me with a confident smile.  “He’ll be fully functional once I wake him up,” he assured me.

“Ratchet, I don’t know how you do it,” I said, finally relaxing.

“And I don’t know how you do _your_ job,” he countered.  “Bringing him out of stasis now.”

Sunstreaker’s optics flickered to life, and he sat up with an astonishing amount of energy.  “Headline?”

“Easy,” I said softly, taking his hand.  “You’re all right.”

“And you look all right too,” Ratchet added sarcastically, in anticipation of Sunstreaker’s usual post-battle question.

“How’s everyone else?” I asked.

“By and large, fine,” Ratchet said, disconnecting a few monitors from Sunstreaker.  “I do need to clean Ironhide up a bit, though.”

“What a surprise,” Sunstreaker and I said in unison, then looked at each other and broke into relieved laughter.

Ratchet winked.  “I’ll leave you two alone.”

As soon as Ratchet walked out of the room, Sunstreaker pulled me up next to him.  I draped my arm casually around him and rested my head on his shoulder.  “Never did get a chance to ask you how it went today,” he commented.

“I think it went a little _too_ well,” I sighed.  “I mean… I _connected_ with him.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Not like you turned into a ‘Con or anything,” Sunstreaker said, giving me a comforting squeeze.

“I don’t believe it,” I fumed.  “After all that, he still shot out my comm array.”

“Not to mention he shot _my_ leg clean off!  I can’t wait to get back out there and scramble his circuits.”

“I don’t know, Sunstreaker,” I said, more calmly.  “I mean… him with Skyfire, me with Live Shot… I could’ve turned out just like Starscream.  And I can’t help thinking there’s still something good in his Spark.”

“I can’t see it.  But _you_ can.  And that’s what I like about you.”  Sunstreaker drew me closer and began to rock me slowly back and forth.  “Don’t lose that, Headline.” 

***

Starscream has never looked quite the same to me since that strange, baffling day.  True, I still see the domineering, cruel side, the archenemy of all who wear the Autobot insignia – and some who wear the Decepticon insignia.  But now, when I see him, I see a twisted version of myself.  Skyfire never blamed Starscream for the millions of years he spent frozen in the polar ice cap, and passing the blame was never in Live Shot’s character either.  But I still wonder… despite all he said, would he have considered his death my fault?

Since encountering Starscream in a way few Autobots have, I’ve been more determined than ever to keep my objectivity, to truly listen for another side when I think I’ve heard all of them.  I’ve been more conscious than ever of the traits all Transformers have in common, I’ve been more willing to overlook the differences… and I’ve even found myself growing disenchanted with the seemingly endless war.

But more than that, I’ve begun looking forward more eagerly to the day when _all_ – Autobots and, I believe, Decepticons – are one.  I’ve begun longing more and more to be reunited with my beloved protégé… my little civilian with the Spark of a warrior.

**Author's Note:**

> Original characters Headline and Live Shot created by the author. All other characters, as well as Transformers itself, are property of Hasbro and used for non-profitable entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Summary lyrics: "Art of the Possible" from Evita - book and lyrics by Tim Rice, music by Andrew Lloyd Webber.


End file.
